The Space Between
by Bohemian Storm
Summary: Ron wonders why Hermione always sits so far away while they do homework and decides to do something about it.


**Disclaimer:  **I don't own the characters.  They belong to J.K. Rowling.  I don't own the lyrics either; they belong to the Dave Matthews Band.

**The Space Between**

_By Bohemian Storm_

_These fickle, fuddled words confuse me  
Like 'Will it rain today?'  
Waste the hours with talking, talking  
these twisted game we play_

            They always sat so far apart while they did their homework and, while it had never mattered before, he found himself hating it this year.  There was so much space between them, so much empty air that just hung there in silence.  He wondered why she never came to sit beside him, opening her book to let him read her notes just as he did with his best friend.

            Hermione always sat in the armchair near the fireplace, her knees pulled under her body and a thick textbook spread open in her lap.  A scroll tumbled down the page and the end rested in a curl on the floor.  Her hand held her quill loosely, dangling over the edge of the chair and nearly slipping from her fingers.  Every so often she'd pull the arm up and make a mark on the scroll or her book, but it would drop right back down again.  

            He wondered what she was writing about.

            Ron would sit beside Harry on the couch nearby and they would share their work.  They'd chat and laugh; scratch answers that thought just might be the right one before going back to their conversation about Quidditch.  She'd look over occasionally and roll her eyes, a hidden smile on her lips.  He wasn't supposed to know that it was there, but he could always see it.  Even when she yelled at him, that hidden smile was there.

            He wondered what she'd do if he got up and sat down beside her on the arm of the chair.

            Things had changed for them both over the past six years and he had always found himself wondering more and more why she insisted on putting so much space between them.  He wondered if she was merely trying to keep herself from getting hurt or if it was something more.  Maybe she knew already, maybe she knew everything he had ever felt about her and was trying to keep him from getting hurt.

            She didn't want to have to let him down easy.

            He didn't like it, whatever it was.  He didn't like all the space.

            "Ugh," Harry murmured, closing his book and sitting up straight.

            Ron glanced at his friend. 

            "I'm going to bed," he said, looking at Ron.  "Are you coming?"

            "In a minute.  I want to finish this . . ." he trailed off and shrugged.  "Y'know."

            Harry paused, then smiled slightly and collected his things.  "Right.  I know."

            And they were left alone in the room, the space and silence collecting between them thickly.  Ron wondered if she ever felt is as distinctly as he did; this sense of uncertainty and awkwardness between them.  He wondered if she felt even half of what he did some of the time.

            "Hermione," he said, shifting slightly in his seat.

            "Hmm?" she murmured without looking up.

            "Are you done the Potions homework?"

            She glanced at him and he could see the exasperation and the hidden smile.  "For God's sake, Ron, Potions is your worst subject.  Why on earth did you continue on with it this year?"

            Ron shrugged.  "I did good on my O.W.L.s, I'll have you know."

            She rolled her eyes.  "Well, if you did so 'good', you'll be able to do your own homework, won't you?"

            "Oh, come on, Hermione," he pleaded.  "Just let me take a little peek at your notes.  Just to make sure I'm doing everything right, of course."

            "No," she said firmly.

            Ron sulked for a moment, then grabbed his quill and scroll and did what he had imagined doing for a very long time.  He slowly closed the space between them and perched uncomfortably on the edge of the armchair.

            "I said no," she repeated, slamming her book shut firmly.

            "Hermione," he moaned in annoyance.  "I just need a little peek."

            "And you wonder why you're behind in all your classes," she snapped.  "You can't even do your own homework without my help."

            His eyes narrowed.  "That's not true."

            "It is," she insisted, glaring up at him.  "That's all I am to you anyway, you prat.  I'm just a walking homework machine, aren't I?"

            "Well, if the shoe fits . . ." Ron muttered, making a grab for her book.

            "Arse," she snapped, pulling the book toward her.

            His eyes widened in shock.  "Hermione, you're swearing at me."

            "Just give me my book back," she growled, pulling it with all her might.

            Ron was still staring at her when she pulled and went tumbling into her lap with her tug.  He gaped at her, staring up from his position, then scrambled off and stood in front of her, blushing furiously.

            "Oh, for God's sake," she was muttering, trying to straighten the pages he had bent in his fall.

            He stared at her in disbelief.  He had fallen straight into her lap and she hadn't even noticed.  She was either completely blind, daft, or she really didn't care about him at all.

            "You bent all the pages, Ron," she said, finally looking at him as she set the book down.  She frowned.  "You're blushing."

            "I am not," he snapped, flushing an even deeper red as she pointed it out.

            "You are too," she said.  "What's wrong?"

            "Oh, nothing, Hermione," he said, finally losing his patience.  "I only trot across the room to practically sit on you, then fall right into your lap and stare at you stupidly, but all you can bloody well think about is your precious book.  All you care about is homework and essays and books and you can't even see things that happen right in front of you."

            "Ron, you fell-"

            "On _you!" he exclaimed.  "I fell _on you_.  Don't you get it?"_

            "Ron-"

            "I could have tried to cut off your hair and you probably wouldn't have noticed.  I . . . I could have eaten your quill and you wouldn't pay attention to me unless you needed it to write a precious paper.  I could have bloody well snogged you in the middle of Potions class and the only thing you'd say is, 'Ron, I'm missing the lesson'."

            She started.  "You want to snog me?"

            "That's not the point!  The point is that-"

            He stopped speaking as Hermione stood up and pressed her lips to his briefly.

            "I . . ." he stared at her blankly.  "You, you . . . you . . . I mean, you . . ."

            "Kissed you?" she supplied brightly.

            "Yeah.  That."  He paused, staring at her.  "Why?"

            She smiled, and then settled back down in her chair.  "Well, I figured I might as well do it when there's no lesson for me to miss."

            "Oh," he said.

            She laughed.  "Ron, I did it because I wanted to."

            "Oh," he said again, then smiled.  "Oh."

            She just shook her head, then went back to the paper she'd been writing before he had come over and interrupted her.  He watched her for a moment, then took his place on the couch and pretended to resume his homework.  Instead he watched her from the corner of his eye, knowing that her hidden smile was no reflected in his own face.

            He supposed that the space between really wasn't all that bad.

End


End file.
